And I wasn’t even trying to cause trouble…honest!

Ok crochet boys and girls, gather round and fearless leader will tell you a story…

It all started last Saturday when I agreed to go with my friend to the county democrat caucus as a guest, because she was a delegate. (No this is NOT a political post, honest!)

I knew it would be a long, long day, so I brought a bag full of yarn and hooks. In fact, it was the tote bag I designed as a prototype for the CLF. On one side it says, I heart Crochet, and on the other “Who’s your Granny Now?” (with a photo of funky squares)…

I spent a good part of that day crocheting, I ignored the frickas and hooked. I have a basketweave sweater I’m designing right now in a very fine yarn and wondering why I started at this point…Remember, I have no patience for long projects, I’m wondering if the sweater won’t end up a vest…sigh…Ok, I digress, on with the story.

It was late afternoon, we were all tired, stressed, I was disgusted with the poor organization, I had to explain the process to more than one person who should have understood it, and they weren’t young either…Hey, they used to teach civics, I wonder how many people actually listened some days…

So, anywho, my friend had just finished her speach to run for the next level of caucus and I had to use the rest room… I ran out, relieved my overstretched bladder (having taken my keys with me) and ran back to the subcaucus room. Once the preceedings were over, my friend was socializing and mixing, I went to go to the car to eat the rest of my sandwich. Believe me it was a long, long, long day with little time to eat, drink etc. (Again, I got much crochet time in, which is all important!)

When I got to the car, I couldn’t find my key. Oh “*^*&^$”, I said. I ran back to the restroom, searched for my key, and of course it was not there. I wasn’t too worried, I have a rather distinct key chain. Not a key chain most people would possess.

I looked for an official type and began my quest to find the key. It was close to going home time, and well, my key was the key to getting home. I went up to a gentleman and asked for the lost and found, which had been packed up. So, he took me to a lady, one of the county party officials. The conversation went like this…

“Hi, I think I may have left my car key in the Ladies Room,” said I. Smiling apologetically.“Oh my, it’s been a long day hasn’t it.” She said, nodding with understanding.“Oh yes, well it’s easy to know if it is mine, I have a rather unique keychain.”“Oh is it brown with stars, we found one like that.” Her eyes were hopeful.“No, it is white and purple and says, ‘Proud to be a hooker!” said I, seriously.Her eyes opened wide in shock, the gentleman gasped and almost choked, and I was wondering what their damage was when it dawned on me!Lauging I raised my crochet bag, and grinning said, “I’m a crocheter, and founder of the Crochet Liberation Front, over 1500 members worldwide!”

Ok, I think I made their day, they laughed so hard!In the end the key had got lost in the yarn, and I found it a few seconds later.

It was worth the whole dang day to see the looks on their faces. And like I said, I really didn’t even have to try.